The Lonely Soul
by AJade97
Summary: Spoilers! No hate Please! Review & Favourite :) When Rose and the Tenth Doctor are separated and Rose is thrown into a neighbouring dimension (Pete's world) she knows she doesn't belong there any more and doesn't know what to do with herself. Basically this is what I imagine Rose's thoughts are during the period of time between when she arrives in Pete's World and Bad Wolf Bay.


I often dream of the many colourful buttons that adorned his console, and the odd whining sound of that old blue box. In fact, I have caught myself many a time faltering in my steps as I walk down the busy streets of London having caught sight of a glimpse of blue in the corner of my eye - the same blue I had grown so accustomed to over time. Of course however as I turn to it, it never is quite what I had hoped for and the colour is always just the slightest bit off - either too light or dark.

The telephone boxes around here are all perfectly ordinary, inside and out, which is quite possibly one of the saddest truths of them all. When you step in, there's no console, no whining, and of course it's the same small cramped size as the exterior would suggest, with not even the slightest hint of adventure. But worst of them all - he's not there.

I always expect to see him when I step through those doors. I expect to see that old pinstriped suit, those token beat up shoes, the pushed back flick of unruly brown hair, and those eyes - those eyes that were somehow so very young, yet ancient with all too many hidden secrets held within their depths. But most of all, I expect to see that smile, that glint to his eyes that lights his face up every time I see him, and the promise of adventure he brings with one of his grand ideas - often times changing when his ship takes her own path.

The Doctor. A name so simple yet always beckons the same question no matter the time or place - Doctor who?  
I wish I had an answer, or even simply the slightest hint of one, just so I could finally set my mind at ease, so I could finally admit those days of my life are over and he is gone. That's right, that old faded box and the madman within which she carries is gone - flown away so to speak.

I imagine this emptiness I feel would be quite similar to that of his past companion Sarah Jane, whom we had encountered previously during a case in a small school. She had told me of the doctor in his younger days, his earlier regenerations, and of the pain she had felt after having been separated from her Doctor and furthermore the realisation that she had been replaced. I had felt so confidant back then that the same fate would never reach me, but I was also far younger then, far more naive and glad to see the world through a rose-coloured glass (mind the pun).

But I guess I'll be the first to admit when I thought of all this ending, I had imagined it would involve him, probably in yet another form, but always with him. And yet here I am... alone...

Of course I have all that I could have ever hoped for, back before he zoomed into my life, with my dad, Mum and Mickey, but I was still missing one integral part that I hadn't even realized I needed until it was too late. A part that I needed to finally be able to close that gaping hole and patch me back up. The Doctor... My Doctor.

I curse all of those wasted opportunities I had had during which I never spoke the truth. Those empty jokes that could have been replaced with meaningful conversations, or those long gaps between sentences where the slow beating of the TARDIS's engine was all that could be heard. Those moments I had the opportunity to tell the Doctor just how much I cared for him... To tell him those three words that could both fix and break everything in existence. I should have told him, I should have just let it spew from my mouth on one of the many alien planets we visited and left all regrets and fears back in London with Mum. I should have... But I didn't.

I don't belong here any more, not after what I have seen and experienced alongside the Doctor. I find that I can no longer look at the sky the same way, the people around me even less so. I mean, how could you when you have stood and watched the world burn in its final moments, and seen the day when they were all dead and had been for centuries?  
Walking through the London streets is like walking amongst ghosts, living in a perpetual ghost town with ghost people, ghost trees, ghost buildings and ghost children playing in ghost parks, people who are very much alive, yet all too dead to me.

At night when I can finally escape from the living reminders of him I like to watch the stars from my window and catch myself wondering if the Doctor is saving any of those planets from any number of nameless evils at that very moment, if my old dimension even shares the same structure to our solar system, that is. I always hope and dream and wonder and think, but the proof of this possibility, of the Doctor's actual existence, just keeps slipping between my fingers like small granules of sand, or water between stones.

That is until one night, one night when my once boring-turned amazing-turned boring life became extraordinary once again. That one night when my Doctor called out for me in my dreams. That one night when I knew all hope was far from lost. That one night that we packed up and set off for a place unknown - a place that translates to 'Bad Wolf Bay'.

I'm coming, Doctor. I will see you again and I will not waste such an opportunity.


End file.
